


Cherry

by Rasiaa



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Dates, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 01:39:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14250309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasiaa/pseuds/Rasiaa
Summary: There are lovely little moments. Ginny always has something cherry red when they happen.





	Cherry

**Author's Note:**

> for halcyon epochs on ff.net monthly exchange
> 
> HarryGinny
> 
> romance
> 
> cherry

On their first date, Ginny wore a cherry red dress.

Harry was mystified.

She smiled, a small, shy thing, and it was so out of place that it jolted him from the stupor.

He swept forward and held out his arm.

"I thought I'd die before you stopped staring," she laughed, snorting and rolling her eyes.

"Er - yeah. You - you're beautiful, Gin."

She stopped in surprise.

…

On their first year anniversary, Ginny wore all green, matched only with a cherry red hair piece (shaped like an eagle - he'd called her that when they first drove through the country with the top down and she stood up in her seat and threw her arms out and _screamed_ ) and cherry red shoes.

"I hope this'll be good," she said, and he smiled, fixing his glasses.

"It will be," he promised.

He held the door open for her and she gave him a mocking bow and allowed herself to be guided into the passenger seat. He hopped round to the other side, put the car in drive, and steered out into the country.

The drive took an hour, and midway through it Ginny rolled down all the windows, turned the music way up high, and rested her cheek on the windowsill.

Her red hair was a sight all its own.

He parked in a rest stop on the side of the highway, and together they got out of the car.

"Where are we?"

"You'll see," he answered, winking at her.

"You're trying too hard," she said.

"I could've let you wallow in a seedy bar," Harry offered. She gave him a flat look so he turned back around and led her into the woods.

The creek was relatively small.

"Kick those off," Harry said, toeing at his own shoes.

She gave him an odd look but complied, and then she followed when he started up the tree.

The branches at the top were sturdy enough to hold them both, so he hefted her up beside him and listened to her awed hum.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "How'd you know about this?"

The mountains reflected blue in the dying rays of sunlight, highlighting the snow on the tops and darkening the roads between the crevices. The trees could be seen for many hundreds of miles, and Harry smiled, pointing.

"I went there once on a school camping trip," he told her. She followed his gaze to a small getaway on the edge of the range. "It was a lot more fun than I expected. I was twenty, I think. I saw this tree from the distance and found it again on Google."

She snickered. "Only you," she said fondly.

…

On their fifth year anniversary, Harry held his hand over her eyes and ignored her protests, guiding her to the building.

"You always wanted this," he whispered in her ear, pressing a key into her palm. "You wanted your family to live on. Well, if I remember your mum correctly, she loved to cook. And I know you don't, but what you do love to do is fly. This place will give you that," and he took his hand away.

Her brown eyes wide, she brought her hands to her mouth. "Oh, Harry," she breathed.

The restaurant on the side of the mountain had been insanely expensive, but he was pretty damn wealthy in his own right and Ginny was worth every minute.

Besides, it wasn't so much a restaurant as it was a resort, one that offered a zip line, which was one of Ginny's favorite things. The walls had been painted cherry red at Harry's request, matched by a rustic brown, and Ginny stood next to him and laughed and laughed.

"Go on," he said, and she turned to kiss him before she dashed down the rest of the way to the front door, throwing the door open.

…

On their first son's fifth birthday, he and Ginny stood on the porch of their resort, watching him play football with his friends, shrieking and tumbling in the grass.

Ginny stood there in her cherry red shoes and her cherry red dress, ("I swear, this'll never fit me again after three kids, Harry,") holding their daughter and watching her brother get hooked up to the zip line.

"You're too good to me," she said. Harry glanced at her. She handed him Lily and took a step back. "I thought, well - I had this idea…"

"Yeah?"

"What do you think, do you want to go out to London? We've not been there for years."

Harry raised his eyebrows. "That's not what you wanted to say," he observed. She glared at him.

Ginny huffed. "Fine. I may or may not have managed to find someone that could give you pictures of your parents."

Harry's eyes grew wide.

…

On the day Lily moved out, Ginny and Harry collapsed onto their bedspread. Harry bit his lip and cried, the tears leaking into his hair. Ginny took his hand.

He rolled his head onto her shoulder and shook, unable to think of anything other than his children and the scent of his wife beside him.

She kissed his head. "I've got whiskey and cherries in the kitchen," she murmured.

He hummed and nodded.

"Okay. I love you, Gin."

"I love you, too."


End file.
